


Christmas For Two

by bigblueboxat221b



Category: Come From Away - Sankoff & Hein
Genre: After Gander, Angst, Diane POV, Diane's Sister Takes Matters Into Her Own Hands, F/M, Letters, Separation Anxiety
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-08
Updated: 2020-01-08
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:00:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22171432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bigblueboxat221b/pseuds/bigblueboxat221b
Summary: Diane's sister sends her on a mystery vacation with only a batch of sealed envelopes to explain. She hopes she knows the purpose of the trip, but only time will tell.
Relationships: Nick/Diane
Comments: 3
Kudos: 11





	Christmas For Two

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: This is not RPF  
> While Nick and Diane in the musical are based on real people, this story is set strictly in the fictional representation of them in the musical, ‘Come From Away’. I haven’t done any research into their personal lives, and anything further than what is canon in the musical is completely made up, with the exception of some geographical details. This is not intended to represent the real life couple in any way, their thoughts, attitudes or actions. It’s just my brain saying, ‘what if?’, as it does to every story that resonates with me.

“Mom?”

Diane pulled herself out of her thoughts to smile at her son. “Yes?”

“Aunt Sarah and I have something for you.”

David looked nervous, twisting an envelope in his fingers as he glanced at his Aunt. A wave of guilt flared through Diane. Though she still sat at the table, she’d slipped out from the conversation, leaving David and Sarah to talk without her. She knew it had been happening more and more over the last few months despite her best efforts. Something would remind her of Gander, or Nick…and reality retreated, her mind taken over with memories and fantasies.

“Oh?” Diane said. She frowned. “Christmas Eve isn’t for days, though.”

“No,” David said. “This isn’t a Christmas present.”

“It’s not?” Diane felt slow. Now that she looked at her sister, Diane was struck by how different her expression was. David’s nervous smile wasn’t reflected on her face; she looked more serious than he did. Confusion sparked in Diane. “Then what?”

“Di,” Sarah began in her explaining voice, “since you came back from Canada, you’ve been different.”

Diane nodded, feeling herself close in defensively. They’d talked about it a little, though she hadn’t really found the words to explain how she felt. She’d stumbled through a short attempt, but she could see her sister’s confusion at the jumble of fish and sandwiches and sleeping in a school and Nick and waiting waiting _waiting_.

She didn’t emphasise which of those things had been most important, but Sarah’s eyebrows rose and the first question she asked after Diane paused for breath made it clear she knew it was Nick. Diane had nodded and changed the subject, and to her immense relief Sarah didn’t push the issue. Not then, at least, but the casual questions about her time in Gander now always seemed to include Nick. She wondered if this was going to be something to do with him. But that was ridiculous. They were in Dallas, and he was in England.

“You have an hour to pack,” Sarah said. She nudged David, who passed the envelope over.

Diane frowned as she tore it open. It contained a single piece of paper.

_Your flight leaves in four hours._

_Pack warm and don’t forget your passport._

“My passport?” Diane repeated, looking up in bewilderment. Questions bloomed in her mind, but she couldn’t bear to voice them. What if the answers she wanted weren’t the answers she received?

“An hour,” Sarah repeated. “And I’ll explain on the way.”

Wordlessly, Diane looked to David.

He shrugged. “Fifty-nine minutes now, Mom,” he said.

They were the two people she trusted more than any in the world, and if they told her to pack…she’d pack.

Diane nodded, tucking the note back in the envelope. Her body was on autopilot, following directions. She instinctively knew if she stopped to examine her emotions or ask questions everything would fall apart, and she had a flight to catch, apparently. Without thinking too much about why she might be doing it, Diane pulled out her smaller suitcase. It would be enough for a few days, and she could wash or buy if she needed more clothing.

Her fingers automatically searched for heavier clothes; the note said to pack warm. Her heart fluttered at the possible destinations. Gander? Or London, maybe? There were other possibilities, of course, but those were the two that jumped out. She’d been watching the weather reports for London, and she knew the snow they’d been experiencing had been unseasonably consistent this year. Her winter gloves made it in, as did her scarf; she would carry her coat. Into the bathroom to pack makeup and toiletries, checking her handbag and ensuring her passport was tucked away.

How odd to be doing this again, she thought, bumping her suitcase down the stairs and standing in the entrance. Barely a moment passed before Sarah and David met her. She wondered what they’d talked about while she was gone.

“I’m sure you have a ton of questions,” Sarah said. “Your cab is almost here.” She handed Diane another, larger envelope, and a small one. “The small one is for the cab driver. The big one has a few things in it. Some are for you, some are not. They have instructions on the front.” Sarah looked at her, stern as only an older sister can be. “Follow the instructions, Diane.”

“Instructions?” Diane asked. She looked at David. “Do you know what this is about?”

“It was my idea, Mom,” he told her. “Well, some of it. I promise, it will be good. Just…please, follow the instructions.”

“Okay,” she said, pulling him into a tight hug. She whispered in his ear, “You’d better not be pranking me, Davey.”

“I’m not,” he replied. “I want you to be happy.”

Her heart fluttered, and she pulled him tighter for a moment before letting him go. “Thank you,” she said, a lump rising in her throat. “Take care of each other.”

“We will,” Sarah assured her. Diane found herself enveloped in another hug, as tight as the first. “I hope this is right,” she said.

“Me too,” Diane replied. When the hug broke, she looked at her sister, astonished to see tears shining in her eyes.

“You can look in the envelope in the cab,” Sarah told her. “We didn’t want to crowd you.”

Diane swallowed, nodding.

+++

In the cab, Diane gave the driver the first envelope.

“Don’t ask me,” she told him. It contained a piece of paper and more than enough money to get her to the airport; he shrugged, turned off the meter and pulled into the street. In the back seat, Diane opened the larger envelope and tipped it out. Half a dozen envelopes tipped out, most bulky with more than just a card or a single piece of paper, from what she could tell. She picked one up, reading the front.

_Open on arrival at destination airport. NO SOONER._

Her sister had underlined the last words, and Diane didn’t dare peek early. It might not even make sense before then anyway. She collected the others, reading their labels and putting them in order, her mind racing.

_Read in the cab to DFW airport._

_Open when you get to DFW airport._

_Read on the plane. NO SOONER, DIANE._

_Open on arrival at destination airport. NO SOONER._

_Give to cab driver at destination airport. NO PEEKING._

_Open when cab arrives at destination._

_Give to the person who lives at this place IMMEDIATELY._

Diane frowned. There was nothing on the front of the envelopes to give her a clue as to where she was going. She suspected her sister had done that on purpose. Of course as soon as she saw her boarding pass she would know where she was going – but there was no guarantee her sister’s plans were what she wanted them to be.

With shaking fingers, Diane tucked the collated pile back into the larger envelope, leaving just one. She read the words on the front again.

_Read in the cab to DFW airport._

This would be the explanation her sister had promised, she hoped. There was a single piece of paper; it was covered with her sister’s writing, and a few words below in David’s bolder scrawl.

_My dear sister,_

_I hope by now you are in the cab, on the way to DFW airport. David and I have organised this for you, and I hope with all my heart it makes you happy. You haven’t been happy for a while, I think. The woman that returned from Canada was not the same as she who left here a few weeks earlier, and I have ached to see you unhappy. Those events changed us all, but you most of all. I hope this is the right thing. Follow the envelopes, and if I’m wrong, come home and we won’t ever mention it again._

_With all my love,_

_Your sister Sarah_

_Mom,_

_She’s right._

_Love,_

_David_

Tears in her eyes, Diane looked out the window. She blinked the tears down her cheeks and read the letter again. She couldn’t deny she’d been different, but she hadn’t realised her unhappiness was so obvious. Perhaps the times she’d felt Sarah’s eyes on her it had actually been so. This had certainly taken some organisation, and Sarah and David had clearly talked, probably at some length.

A wave of guilt flowed through Diane. They must have been worried to do all this. She should have talked to Sarah. Shouldn’t have been so closed off, even though the right words hadn’t ever really come to her when she tried to find them. Again, she groped for the right way to explain what she felt. It was so difficult; everything was complicated and there were emotions she hadn’t even admitted to herself yet. And almost everything was mixed up with Nick.

As they moved towards the airport, Diane tried again to figure it out. She had admitted she missed talking to Nick; they called each other when they could, but their conversations were never as easy as they had been in Gander. In Gander, once they had relaxed in each other’s company the words had flowed, and even the quiet Nick had become more animated, talking at length. His whole face lit up, Diane remembered with a smile; several times he’d apologised for how much he’d talked about something he assumed she wouldn’t be interested in. It was often something she didn’t know much about, but watching his animation was more than entertaining and she always told him she didn’t mind.

There was more to it than that, though. This was getting into the territory of things she had never really examined too closely. There had been several moments she’d felt the air between them crackle with tension; the kind of moment you held your breath and wondered if someone was about to be kissed.

Not to mention the screech-in. They hadn’t discussed it, and Diane didn’t even know if Nick was aware she’d remembered what happened. There was no way to bring it up without talking about that whole aspect their relationship, which was the crux of Diane’s angst. She’d thought he was going to kiss her on the plane; the tears were running down her cheeks, and his awkwardness had returned. The arms around her shoulders was comforting, as he probably intended it to be, and Diane would have sworn his attempt to kiss her had been stifled by the turbulence. She was too unsure to do anything about it though, and they’d spent the flight home in a miserable silence.

Farewells in Dallas had been full of false cheer as they promised to call each other, but as soon as he turned as was swallowed up by the crowd, the smile slid from her face and her sense of loneliness engulfed her again. In the months since it had never really left her. The cloud had hovered, and from what Sarah had written, it had been evident to those around her.

And now she was in a cab, on the way to the airport to board a plane to…well she didn’t know, but Diane hoped she was headed to London. She’d packed for London, the first place she’d thought of, and from what Sarah was saying it sounded like she had thought the same thing. Pressing her head back into the seat, Diane took a deep breath. She’d go mad trying to figure it out. She would have to be patient.

+++

When they reached the airport, the driver helped her out with her suitcase and departed, leaving Diane to open the next envelope on her own. It contained a boarding pass, a twenty-dollar bill and a note.

_Double check you have your passport. CALL ME IF YOU DON’T._

Diane smiled. Sarah was a worrier, that was for sure. She double checked anyway, then continued to read.

_Grab a coffee if you have time. Enjoy your flight. Xxx_

Swallowing, Diane looked at the boarding pass. DFW to LHR. London, Heathrow. She was going to London. Her breath rushed out with a burst, then she sucked in another breath, dizzy with emotion. Relief and fear and anticipation and apprehension vied for space in her brain, but she took another deep breath and pushed them aside. She didn’t have space for all that right now. She could get her head in order on the plane. Right now she needed to check in, head through security and get herself a coffee.

+++

As they waited to board, Diane’s mind was on the next envelope. She wanted to open it desperately, but the warning on the front made her wait. She’d always been the more impatient one, while Sarah was more measured, happy to wait until after breakfast to open presents on Christmas. Diane was always out of bed first, begging to start tearing at the wrapping paper.

It wasn’t until she boarded Diane realised her ticket was for business class; it was definitely nicer than coach, and she shook her head at her family’s extravagance. She settled into her seat – there were only two across, and the aisle seat appeared to be empty – and pulled out the envelope, holding onto it like a talisman. The second the wheels left the ground she tore it open, pulling out three sheets of lined paper. Again, from her sister.

_Dear Diane,_

_I’m writing this before we’ve even decided what we’re going to do. I have no idea why, but it feels important. You haven’t been the same since you returned from Canada. There’s some kind of deep sadness in you now. I want to say, ‘you can’t seem to shake it’, but I don’t know if you are even aware that it’s there. You smile sometimes, and superficially, you’re content enough, but David and I have both noticed the difference. I don’t think you’ve had a single night out since you returned. David’s had a few phone calls from people asking after you, as have I; we don’t know what to say. And I know you decided not to go to that work Christmas party at the start of December. Since when have you not liked Christmas?_

_I don’t want you to feel like we’re conspiring against you. The opposite, actually – we’re both worried about you. We want you to be happy. The only time I’ve seen you really properly smile since you returned was when you were talking about walking around the town with that Englishman, Nick. It wasn’t lighting up, exactly; but you smiled, really smiled at the memory. When I ask you about him the same smile appears, then fades as though you’ve remembered he’s not here._

_I wish I knew how to help._

The next paper was headed, _A week later._

_David and I have come up with a plan. It’s a bit crazy, but we think it will work, and Diane, if you’re reading this, I hope you’ve trusted us enough to follow our instructions. These are the things I want you to remember, if you have to make any decisions:_

_\- David and I want you to be happy._

_\- David’s not a little kid anymore. He and I can take care of each other here in Dallas if we need to._

_\- If you’re not sure, think about what makes you happy. Don’t make it complicated – just ask yourself the question and look at what comes into your brain._

_We love you._

Diane read the letters several times. When she came to the last part (“Just ask yourself the question,”) she deliberately didn’t let herself do it until she knew she wasn’t going to keep reading. With a deep breath, she closed her eyes and thought about the last time she was happy. Really, actually happy.

A memory rose, as clear and immediate as bubbles in soda.

She and Nick, walking through Gander. Nick had made some kind of joke about the coffee place and Diane was laughing at it. The sun was shining and Nick was smiling at her.

Diane opened her eyes, remembering. It had been a perfect afternoon. The day of the screech-in, though neither knew it was going to happen at that point. They were comfortable enough with each other to be gently teasing, talking freely and bumping shoulders as they wandered the streets. Diane knew some people thought they were married because they spent so much time together; she thought it was amusing. This was the afternoon she first felt that frisson of awareness down her spine. That extra something that told her she wanted more than just friendship from Nick. She hadn’t known him all that long, but part of her was convinced he wanted the same thing. And although Diane felt like she knew him fairly well, she couldn’t convince herself the fond smiles or lingering glances were more than platonic friendship from a reserved man.

_Nick makes me happy._

The thought came to her, perfectly formed and resting on the surface of her consciousness as though it was always true and was waiting for her to realise it.

_But he lives in London._

Diane read the letter from her sister again, her heartrate increasing as she realised the implication Sarah was making. It was all moot, of course; she still wasn’t entirely convinced she was going to see Nick. Not until she opened a door and he was on the other side of it. She couldn’t take it if she was wrong; though she and Sarah knew each other well there had been nothing to specifically tell her she was to see Nick, and the possibility of getting excited about it and being disappointed was more than she could bear.

Folding the letter, Diane put it back in the envelope, tucked it into her bag, and closed her eyes. She would rest now and see what the next envelope brought. Sarah and David were clearly in charge. She should stop trying to figure it out and just go with it, wherever it led.

+++

Resting was a relative term on an airplane; the restless shifting of people reminded her of Gander, though there were fewer opportunities to stretch her legs. The food wasn’t as good either, she thought, smiling to herself as she ate it anyway. She watched parts of some movies, dozed a little, and when they were due to land, made sure she was ready to go well before they actually touched down in England.

_I’m back. A lot sooner than I thought._

Customs was easy enough, when she told them she was visiting a friend; the lie fell easily enough from her lips. It was probably true, and the situation was complicated and could risk her entry into the country. That was something she was not willing to do.

When she was through, Diane took a few moments to touch up her hair and makeup in the bathroom. She felt out of sorts, the time difference already pulling at her; she could feel a thrum of energy in her belly, which could be jet lag, fatigue or excitement or a combination of all three. There certainly wasn’t anything usual about this day, she told herself. When she was done, Diane pulled out the next envelope, marked _Open on arrival at destination airport. NO SOONER._

She smiled at her sister’s bossy directive again, tugging the envelope. It contained a wad of British currency and a note.

_Find a cab and give them the next envelope._

_Make sure you’ve checked your hair first, sis. Xxx_

Diane rolled her eyes. Her sister knew her so well, but this time she’d gotten in one ahead. Tucking the money into her purse, she stood up and scanned for an information desk or a sign to show her where she could get a taxi. Sign spotted, Diane took a moment to add a layer of winter clothes to her outfit. It would definitely be colder out there than in Dallas. One hand on her small suitcase, and she was heading in the right direction, heart thumping.

+++

The cab driver blinked, then shrugged and took the envelope. “On a mystery adventure, luv?” he asked as they pulled out.

“Something like that,” she replied. It was odd, driving on the other side of the road again when she had just got used to being back on the right. The sky was overcast and it was raining a little, but she wasn’t too cold. Her knee was bouncing without even trying, and she soon gave up trying to stop it. The next envelope – the second from last – was labelled _Open when cab arrives at destination_ , and Diane had slid it into the outside pocket of her bag for easy access. She had no idea how long they drove for, but when the cab pulled up, she said,

“Will you leave the meter running, please? I just need to read this note first.”

“Sure thing,” the cab driver said, sitting back.

Diane’s hands were shaking as she tore the backing of the envelope open. Her sister’s handwriting again, and one word jumped out of the sea of words.

 _Nick_.

Heart pounding, she forced herself to start at the beginning.

_Yes, this is Nick’s flat. Please don’t freak out. If this is wrong, if I’ve read you wrong all these weeks, turn around and come back. Call me from the airport and I’ll know, I’ll pick you up and never say it again._

_But if you’ve been hiding how sad you are, and how much you miss him, and how much you love him (don’t deny it right away, see if I’m right), go and knock on his door. He will be home. I emailed him that you’ll call this morning, so he’ll be there._

_We want you to be happy._

_Love, Sarah and David xxx_

Diane read it again, blinking tears away as she did. It was real. She was here. At Nick’s apartment – no, _flat_ , she was in England after all – and he was inside, waiting for her. Well, waiting for her to call, he wouldn’t expect her to ring his doorbell. That would be why Sarah had advised her to fix her makeup.

A burble of laughter rose up and Diane forced the tears down. It wouldn’t do to ruin her makeup, no matter how happy and relieved her tears were.

“You want me to keep waiting, luv?”

Diane had reached for the door without thinking, and it took a second to process the driver’s words.

“No, thank you,” she said. “Have I…was there enough money?” The phrasing was awkward but she couldn’t think enough to be more tactful.

“Plenty,” he said, grinning at her. “Good luck with whatever it is you’re doing here.”

“Thank you,” she said. She was clumsy getting her suitcase out, taking a moment to be sure she had everything, that her scarf was still in place before she stared at the door. It wasn’t a large building; she could only see a couple of buzzers, and even from here her eyes zeroed in on the name ‘MARSON’ in clear letters.

Nick’s flat.

Fumbling, Diane found the last envelope – it was for him. She clutched it tightly, taking a deep breath against the butterflies whirling in her stomach before taking the three steps up to the door. Doubt set in and she hesitated long enough for a voice to sound behind her.

“You going in?”

“Oh!” Diane gasped, turning around. An old lady was staring at her with the interested expression of a nosy neighbour. “I’m sorry. I’m here to see Nick. Nick Marson.”

“Really?” the woman said consideringly, looking her up and down. “American, are you?”

“Yes,” she said. “I’m sorry, I’m Diane.”

“Dora,” the woman replied. “Flat 1. And you’re here to see Nick?”

“Yes,” Diane said. “I was about to buzz him.”

“Well you don’t look like you’re going to do anything nasty,” Dora said. “Why don’t you help me in with this and you can go up and surprise him.” She indicated her shopping buggy. “Not easy getting up these stairs.”

“Of course,” Diane replied. She used her own suitcase to prop the door open, helping Dora until they both stood in the entranceway of the building. “Would you like help getting everything inside?”

“No, no,” she said with a smile. “But if you have time for a cuppa come down later. Don’t get a lot of visitors. Neither does Nick, and I’m old enough to be blatantly nosy about you two.”

Diane flushed and smiled nervously at her. “I will,” she promised. “Provided he lets me in, of course.”

Dora’s eyebrows, wispy and pale, rose and her eyes gleamed with interest. “Even more reason if he doesn’t, love. Tea and sympathy and all that.”

Diane’s smile relaxed. “Thank you,” she repeated. Taking her suitcase she headed for the stairs, heart thumping long before she was winded.

Up the stairs, round the bend and she was there. Standing outside Nick’s flat. Digging out the envelope where she’d stuck it in her pocket, nervously smoothing out the creases before taking a deep breath and knocking on the door.

The intervening seconds were interminable. Part of her wanted to run and hide – not that there was anywhere to go – but she’d come so far, and this was the last moment. And, she could finally admit, she wanted to see Nick again, desperately wanted to hear him say her name…

“Diane!”

He stood before her, door open, the shock evident in his voice and on his face. It was still wonderful to hear him, she thought blindly, heart thumping hard.

“Hello,” she said awkwardly. A second passed, and she knew it was up to her to say something. “This is for you.”

She thrust the envelope at him, and he took it without taking his eyes from her face. It took another second before he looked down, frowning at it.

“Come in?” he asked, and it sounded like he was questioning if this was the right thing to say as much as if she wanted to come inside.

“Thank you,” she said. Her suitcase fit beside the small hall table, and she carefully removed her coat, gloves and scarf, layering them neatly on top. Nick had closed the door and opened the letter and Diane forced herself not to watch him as he read her sister’s words. She wished she’d ignored Sarah’s directive and opened it first; not knowing what he was reading – what she had said about Diane – was torturous.

From what she could see Nick’s flat was small but neat, the hall leading into a living room painted pale grey.

“Have you read this?” Nick asked, and she turned to look at him. His eyes were still full of surprise, but he was focussing now at least.

“No,” Diane said. “My sister wrote it. At least I think she did.” She laughed a little, but it rang false. “She and David put me on a plane yesterday without telling me where I was going.”

Nick nodded slowly. “I think you should read it,” he said, passing it over. His shaking fingers didn’t brush hers, and Diane wondered if he was as careful as she was about avoiding casual contact right now.

Blinking she looked down at her sister’s words.

_Hi Nick,_

_Firstly, don’t freak out. Diane’s here because I sent her (I’m Sarah, her sister), and she has no idea why. She probably suspected – and hoped – when she saw she was heading to London, but there’s been a fair bit of subterfuge on my behalf. Consider it meddling if you like._

_The short version is this. Diane’s been miserable since she returned from Canada. Withdrawn, sad, not at all like herself. She says she’s changed, and I can see that’s true in some respects – but I know my sister, and I know what she’s like when she’s missing someone. Every story she has includes you, and yet she doesn’t sound happy when she talks about you. She sounds like someone grieving, and that’s ridiculous when you’re not dead. Forgive the blunt words but we need to get this sorted out._

_So we’re sending her over to see you and figure out what’s what. Personally I think she’s in love with you but I would guess she’ll deny that. I have no idea what actually happened between you in Canada, but Diane’s as stubborn as they come and she won’t say anything first. So I suppose my question to you is, will you be the first to say something? I hope you will – to clear things up one way or another._

_Sarah_

_P.S. If I’ve read this entire thing wrong, be gentle. But, if she’s rung your bell and she’s standing in your flat, she’s invested in this. Don’t screw it up._

Diane blinked, her emotions jumping all over the place as she read the letter twice. Damn her sister. Damn the perceptive woman who knew her so well – and who placed so much of this on Nick. Because Diane knew that for everything that drove her mad about her sister, the woman knew her.

She knew Diane would never be the one to make the first move. And she knew Diane hated being told she wouldn’t – or couldn’t – do something. Which left her in quite a situation, of course. Damn you, Sarah. Right now the reluctance was winning.

Taking a deep breath, Diane looked up, bracing herself for whatever she saw in Nick’s face. His eyes were on her, as she thought they might be, and she searched them for some clue as to his reaction. It was easier to mark off the things he wasn’t first, those things she feared finding. There was no anger, disgust, apology or resignation. Having discarded those, Diane was at a loss. Her own fear made her hesitant to put names to things she wasn’t certain of; the same insecurities that had prevented her speaking or acting in Canada were still in place here.

“I hope I didn’t interrupt anything,” Diane said, when the silence seemed stretched to breaking point.

“No,” Nick replied. “I was waiting for you to call. Your sister emailed me a couple of days ago, said you had something important to talk about, and that I should be home this morning.” He shrugged. “So here I am.”

“Oh,” Diane replied.

“Same sister, I presume?” Nick asked.

“One and the same,” Diane replied. “Only, which could be a good thing. I don’t know what she would have done if she’d had backup.”

“I thought she mentioned David?” Nick said, gesturing to the letter Diane still held.

“Yes, you’re right,” Diane replied. “Oh, this is yours.”

She held the letter out to him, and he stepped forward. She hoped he couldn’t see the shaking but it was audible, the paper crinkling gently as she shook.

“Thank you,” he said, and instead of taking the paper at the far edge as they had exchanged the paper the first time, he instead caressed her hand, drawing his fingertips up hers until he could take the paper. It was like a line of fire, sparking up her arm at his touch. Diane fervently hoped she hadn’t gasped but feared she did.

It was a relief, after so long away from him. She watched, flexing her fingers absently as he folded the paper and laid it on the entrance table. The care with which he placed it made her wonder if he was also playing for time. Was he nervous? Trying to eke out the time until he had to make the definitive move one way or another? Diane was frustrated at her sister, and an impulse rose in her. The old Diane – before Gander – would have pushed it down. Heck, with anything else she probably still would – but when it came to Nick, her priorities were different.

“My sister isn’t always right about me,” she blurted.

Nick raised his eyebrows. “She’s not?” he asked.

“No,” Diane said, half regretting beginning this conversation. She waved one hand at the letter. “I know this is awkward but I can’t stand here and make small talk.” She saw Nick stiffen, then he nodded, eyes on hers. This time she definitely saw apprehension, but for which outcome she could not tell.

“Okay,” Nick said. “What did she get wrong?”

“Well, that I wouldn’t start this conversation, for one,” Diane said defiantly.

“I’m not sure that’s exactly what she said,” Nick pointed out.

“Well, she said something like that,” Diane said.

“Okay,” Nick replied. “But she did send you over here. She must have had strong reasons to do so.”

“She does know me well,” Diane admitted. “And I have been different since I returned to Dallas.” She half smiled, then turned away. It was easier to say the words when she couldn’t see Nick’s eyes. “And all of my stories are about you.”

“They are?” Nick said. He was closer than he had been, and Diane nodded, still looking out his window. “She said you don’t sound happy.”

Diane shrugged, pushing down the sob that threatened with his gentle tone. “The memories are happy,” she said, knowing it was dodging around his question. “I don’t know…if I have been.”

She couldn’t see Nick, but she could sense him behind her. “Neither have I,” he said quietly.

“You haven’t?” Diane asked. She turned, wanting to see him now; perhaps he’d taken the chance to say it without meeting her eyes as well. He was closer than she’d even thought, close enough to reach out and touch, should she dare. His eyes were on hers, his expression earnest, and the affection in his eyes was clear now.

“Why?” Diane asked.

“London is a long way from…Gander,” Nick said.

“It is,” Diane agreed. She took a deep breath. “It’s a long way from Dallas, too.”

“Yes,” Nick said.

Another indrawn breath, and Diane felt her mouth open to defy her sister in a much more explicit manner. “I missed you,” she said. Once those words were out, the rest were far easier. “I didn’t do it on purpose, but everything I remembered…you were there. And you were kind, and considerate, and I liked talking to you but when we got back to Dallas,” she drew a shaking breath, “I didn’t know how to tell you. And I tried to explain the sandwiches, and the fish, and what the people were like, but nobody understood.” She shrugged, heart pounding as she watched Nick’s face change. “And so I missed you,” she whispered. She could hardly remember what she’d just said, but Nick looked shocked.

_Oh God, don’t let it be too bad._

“Nick?” Diane whispered. She tried for a laugh but couldn’t. “Say something.”

He nodded. Cleared his throat. “I don’t know what to say,” he replied. “I’ve missed you too. I didn’t want to leave Gander.” His eyes changed a little as he added, “I didn’t want to leave you.”

“Oh,” Diane whispered. She screwed up the courage her sister didn’t think she had and blurted, “I thought you were going to kiss me on the plane.”

“I was,” Nick said. He looked mildly surprised at his own admission.

“I remember the screech-in,” Diane added. Might as well get it all out there.

“You do?” Nick said. He flushed. “I didn’t think you did.”

“Not until later,” Diane replied. “But you didn’t mention it, so I thought you didn’t want to talk about it.”

Nick smiled a bit. “Best part of the whole trip,” he murmured.

Diane’s heart was racing, and she managed a tiny smile. There was the beginning of something, now that they’d both relaxed a little, and she was determined not to let it go by this time. Not now that she’d come so far. “Better than the Dover Fault lookout?” she said.

“I wanted to kiss you there, too,” Nick said. “I didn’t take a single photo of the view.”

“But I saw you,” Diane said, frowning. “With your camera.”

Nick hesitated, then turned, opening a drawer in the living room and pulling out a small photo album. “Here,” he said, handing it to her. “All my photos from that trip.”

Diane took it, uncertain, but he nodded nervously at her. She flipped it open, flicking past photos of Gander, the shelter, a couple of the screech-in; she smiled at the hats. Those she definitely remembered. She turned a page and froze, her own face appearing before her.

She was at the Dover Fault. The background was recognisable, and she wasn’t looking at the camera. Nick had captured her as she’d looked out over the water, eyes wide and delighted at the sight. Diane moved on, the half dozen frames taken on the same day all photos of her. Only one she remembered him taking; she was standing next to the flag pole, and she’d assumed he’d taken a wide shot of the view behind her. Instead it was focussed on her face, the view a blur of muted blues, greens and greys behind her.

“Nick,” she whispered. “All of me?”

“I didn’t want to forget you,” he said. He took the album and turned back to her. “Your sister said you wouldn’t be the first to say…anything.” He paused, and looked at Diane. “It’s not in my nature to be forthcoming,” he admitted, the pink flush up his cheeks sending a rush of affection though Diane. “But given the choice of letting you walk away or finding the words.” He took a deep breath, stepping in and taking her hand in both of his. He was looking down at their hands, frown on his face, and the obvious effort it was taking almost made Diane cry.

“Nick,” she whispered, reaching up to cup his face. He turned his face up, startled. “This was one thing my sister got right. Four days in Gander, it hardly seems long enough.”

“I know,” he said. “But it’s real.” He sounded uncertain still.

“It is,” Diane replied, her thumb brushing his cheek. “I knocked on the door, remember?”

“You did,” Nick said with a smile. The affection in his eyes had blossomed now, and when they dropped to her mouth, Diane’s heart kicked on again. She slid her hand around the back of his neck, smiling as he started, but understood what she was encouraging him to do.

It wasn’t far, especially when she lifted her face to meet him; they settled together, not moving for a long beat of time, lips pressed together as everything else receded and the tension in her slid away. She could feel Nick’s shoulders relax, and they both pressed in, sliding the kiss into motion. It was slow and unhurried, soothing jangled nerves and cementing the idea with them both that this was what had been desperately wanted by both people too frightened to take the risk. Neither pressed for anything further, and when the contact broke it took a second for Diane to be able to speak again.

“When you speak to my sister,” she murmured, “tell her I started the conversation, okay?”

Nick smiled, pressing another kiss to her mouth. “I will,” he said. “As long as you tell her I can recognise a challenge when it’s issued.”

“Deal,” Diane agreed. “And we’ll make sure she knows that we know she manipulated us both with that last letter.”

“Of course,” Nick replied. “Although we’ll have to give her one thing.”

“What’s that?” Diane asked, happiness coursing through her veins.

“That I’m the first to say it,” Nick replied, kissing her again before murmuring the words against her mouth. “I love you.”

Diane’s heart had jumped when he first spoke, and she felt it leap again as he spoke the words she’d held in her heart as the hope against hope. Pressing up, she kissed him, feeling the tears run down her cheeks as the realisation came.

_He loves me. I’m here in London, in his flat, and he loves me._

“I love you,” she responded when their kisses finally eased again. She could hear how breathless she sounded but smiled at Nick, allowing it to shine out of her. Finally, she could now that she was…

“Oh my God,” she said. “I’m in London!”

Nick’s eyes flew open, then they crinkled as he chuckled. “Yes,” he said, arms tightening on her, “you are.”

Diane studied his face. “You know, I hadn’t considered it until my sister put it in one of her letters.” She took a deep breath. “She told me to think about what I wanted.” She frowned. “No, to think about what makes me happy. And not to make it complicated.” She tightened her arms around him. “You make me happy.”

Nick smiled, but Diane could see he didn’t really see what he was hinting at.

“She also told me,” Diane added, “that she and David could take care of each other. If I needed to not be in Dallas.”

When his eyes grew wide Diane knew he’d figured it out. “Seriously?” he asked.

“I hadn’t even thought about it,” Diane admitted. “But to keep it simple, you make me happy, and you’re in London.”

“So you’d consider moving?” Nick asked. “You don’t think that’s…excessive?”

“Excessive?” Diane repeated. “Is it?”

“No,” Nick said immediately. “I only ask because I’ve already started making enquiries. About transferring to our Dallas office.”

“You have?” Diane said.

“Just asking questions,” Nick said hastily. “But I have no family here, it would be less difficult for me to move. If you don’t think it’s too much.”

“Well, yes, it’s a bit crazy,” Diane said, “but don’t let that stop you.”

She giggled at his expression, and they melted into another kiss again. Diane could hardly believe she’d left Dallas only a day ago, give or take, and now she was standing here in Nick’s living room, planning a future together.

“How long are you staying?” Nick asked.

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “The ticket is open ended, but I get the impression Sarah and David won’t mind if I spend Christmas over here.” She looked around, realising Nick’s flat bore no signs of the impending season. “You don’t celebrate Christmas?”

“It’s just me,” Nick said self-consciously. “Not a lot of point when it’s for one.”

“Not this year,” Diane told him. “Christmas for two.”

“Christmas for two,” Nick agreed, and he kissed her again.


End file.
